Pleasure Islands

The glance caught him unawares;
froze him in his tracks
like a deer in headlights.
Sideways, it sliced through his heart
like a knife,
ending his old life
and replacing it with a new wife.

The lips like a pomgranate,
puckered and pursed
they beckoned to him
like the sirens of old.
Ringing out the past
and bringing in at last
hardness like a mast.

Entering her was easy,
leaving was not.
So, he stayed in,
their mutual friend happy
to oblige, in love
as he was, fitted in a glove
his heart soared like doves above.

Afterwards they talked and talked,
then they walked and walked.
No cigarettes lit they
here beside the golden-sanded bay.
Their hands locked and entwined
as they sun-shine lazily reclined
on the beach before they dined.

Inside their resort they later went
his shorts looking like a tent.
Her sly smile a testament
of being glued together like cement.
They would now unwind
while they danced and wined
the night away in kind.

Yes, love is bold
and not just when old!
But when new and bright,
precious in their sight,
it is nothing but pleasure,
everything like treasure,
love beyond measure.

---------------------------------
mindbringer, 29 March 2014